Love With A Kitty Isn't Bestality, Right?
by 0mohni0
Summary: Ulquiorra is in love with a cat. Aizen and Gin take the matter into their highly capable, moisterized hands, and all hell breaks loose! Ulquiorra x Grimmjow, Ilforte x Szayel, Grimmjow x Ilforte. MORAL OF THE STORY: Love In Hueco Mondo Leads to Chaos.
1. Really Deep ShitOh, I Mean Pizza

Summary: Ulquiorra was in love with a cat. An oblivious kitty, who had eyes for no one but Ilforte. Aizen and Gin take the matter into their highly capable, moisterized hands, and all hell breaks loose! Ulquiorra x Grimmjow, Ilforte x Szayel, Grimmjow x Ilforte (one sided), Aizen x Gin, Yammy x Ulquiorra (one-sided).

CHAPTER ONE:

'I. Am. Going. Mental.'

'I. Am. Going. Very. Very. Insane.'

'Very. Very. Very—GAH!' Ulquiorra broke his train of thought by uprooting the train tracks and sobbed inwardly. How many days had it been?

Things were going wrong—like on the entire WRONG path of life. Case point: He was rapidly becoming frank with Ichimary Gin of all people.

The silver-haired shinigami patted him on the back consolingly. "Yaare, 'arre. You're so love-sick."

If Ulquiorra didn't agree whole heartedly to this statement, he would have glared at the man for saying it so casually.

He sniffed. Aizen wondered what had happened to his favorite Espada. From the cold, cutting monster he used to be, Ulquirorra was sniffing and sighing like Hinamori used to. He might have found it cute—except for the fact that this was _Ulquiorra _he was talking about. Ulquiorra sniffling was scary beyonds the boundaries of the world he hoped to create.

What could have turned the efficient Espada into the pitifu thing he was now?

Easy answer. Stero sytems he had bought for all his Espada in a fit of paternal sentiment. That and the fact that Ulquiorra's room was so close to Grimmjow's that it deified all laws od logic. Why would the _sixth _be close to the _fourth?_

Well, aside from the fact that the right side of the hall had even numbers and the left had odd.

What did stero sytems and the way his rooms were planned have to do with the sniffling mess in front of him, again?

He watched Gin prance around Ulquiorra, giving useless suggestions and throughly enjoying himself.

"What are ya going to do?" He asked, lips barely moving from his Gin-grin.

Ulquiorra stared at him blankly. "I don't know."

That's it. If Uquiorra said 'I don't know', it was the end of the world. A-POC-O-LYPSE.

And a bigger one than Aizen had created when he betrayed Soul Society with his lover.....and someone of no particualr emotional value to him (Tousen).

What had happened to his dear, efficient Ulquiorra?

Grimmjow had happened, that was what. It only took a little incident, once little prank from Szayel, music blaring out of the room, and lack of clothes to make Ulquiorra blush for the first time in his life.

Szayel had decieded that he wanted to see Grimmjow in a towel, so he'd nicked his clothes while Sexta was in the shower, and ran off, leaving the room door open.

Grimmjow opened the door of the bathroom, with his towel wrapped around his waist ('Sexy Back' playing from the speakers) only to find his entire wardrobe vanished into thin air!

Growling, the over-grown cat had come out of his room, hollering that he was going to murder Szayel when he got his hands on him. Ulqiorra had paused reading his Harry Potter books long enough to poke his head out the door....and nearly had a heart-attack and died of nose bleed.

Grimmjow, the macho, I-don't-care-who-sees-my-sexy-ass Grimmjow, merely held tigher onto his slipping towel and raced off to beat Szayel into a bloody pulp with the same lack of clothes.

Aizen sighed. He _knew_ Grimmjow's human-size form was too sexy for his own good. Stark and Ulquiorra wern't far behind, but the Sexta's teal eyes just seemed to have an attractive luster to them that even _Ulquoirra _couldn't resist.

In fact, if Gin wasn't going to send him guilt-tripping with his fox-look, he would considered Grimmjow for himself. As it was, if the silver-haired man even caught him looking at anyone else for more than a second, he would have to sleep alone that night.

Urahara had once said how 'whipped' Aizen was. He wished he knew what that meant....

"I think I'm disturbing you..." Ulquiorra said, and got up to leave, but was pushed back down by Gin. "Oh no! You're not disturin' us! We don't sleep at three in the mornin', do we, Aizen-sama?"

"Was that supposed to be sarcasm, Gin?" He asked.

"No! We don't! We do _other _stuff, right, Aizen-sama?"

Ulquiorra pouted more.

Gin patted him on the head. "Don't ya worry. Soon, you'll be up 'till three with Grimmy too."

Ulquiorra sniffed again, then stood up. "I must be leaving now. Thank you, Gin, Aizen-sama." He bowed and left the room. When his sniffs were no longer audible, Gin leapt in the bed and wormed his way close to Aizen's chest.

"You enjoy teasing the poor boy, don't you?"

"Teasin'! I wasn't!" Gin mock-gasped. "I was.....just....enjoyin' his misery."

The lord of Hueco Mondo brushed a few strands of white hair out of Gin's face. Smiling, "You know you're a sadist, don't you?"

"Ya know ya love me."

"I don't think you can prove that, Gin." Aizen smiled serenely, enen though his voice was enchoing with mirth.

Gin kicked, and after a moment, Aizen's blood-shot, tearing eyes blinked at his lover. His hands shot down to his nether regions.

"Giiinnn...." He moaned.

Ulquiorra paused outside the door.

Wait a minute.

His eyes widened.

No, do NOT wait a minute. He shook his head and flash-stepped to his room.

000

Grimmjow strolled down to breakfast next morning, dressed as he usually did when he didn't feel like wearing white: his human clothes.

There was nothing to do in Hueco Mondo when he too lazy to fight someone, so he went down to the human world with Aizen's-infinite-credit-card.

The first thing he noticed when he walked down to breakfast was everyone staring at him. Then how eveyrone else just sighed as muttered something about his rebellios minsstae, as usual, and how Ulquirra was slowly turning red.

He shrugged. The Cuatro must have choked on a piece of bread or something.

Beside said Cuatro, Gin poked him in the side. "Ulqui!" He hissed, almost laughing.

"I know." Ulquiorra muttered, and purposely shifted his locks so that they covered up as much of his face as possible. He put his fork down slowly, and said, "May I be dismissed now, Aizen-sama?"

Aizen nodded, watching as his lover got up with his Cuatro Espada. Gin looked like he was trying not to laugh.

From across the table Grimmjow raised an eyebrow at the two rising from their unfinished breakfast, and then shoveled another forkful of eggs into his mouth.

Once in the corridor, Gin's grin spread ever larger. "Grimmy looks so cute!"

"Yes..." If Ulquiorra had glasses, he would be pushing them up the bridge of his nose to hide his embarassement. As it was, he merely pinched his nose—no, it was NOT bleeding. Yet.

Oblivious to Ulquiorra's racing pulse, Grimmjow was calmly eating eggs by the truck-load, dressed in his favorite black silk pajamas. There were little blue kittens playing with yarn all over his shirt, which was drawing many giggles form Szayel in the teal-haired Espada's direction.

"Drooling all over Grimmjow isn't going to do me any good right now." Ulquiorra pinched his nose harder. Gin looked awed. "Wow, Ulqui! You're the first person I've seen who actually _thinks_ when they're in love!"

Ulquiorra brushed his shoulders in an expression of pride. "Yes, well, that's just how I am. Next, what to do?"

Gin thought about it for a second. Scratched his head. Wrinkled his nose. Tilted his face. Did Ikkaku's luck-luck dance. Finally, he sighed. "How about you just go and tell him?"

Ulquiorra's eye twitched. "Tell him what?"

"How you're in love in with him and can't wait to get in his pants." Gin grinned.

"Negative." Ulquiorra said spitefully.

"You sure? Grimm was always a guy who liked to get to the point...."

"Really?" Ulqui thought out-loud. _Would that mean getting straight to the point in bed too?_

Soon after he'd thought this, a whole series of very inappropriate thoughts worthy of Szayel began to cross his mind, and he blushed, trying to hide his face.

It didn't work. "Ulquiiiiiiii.....doncha worry! I'll help you get Grimmy!"

He sighed—what was wrong with him? He never sighed this much!—and thanked Gin.

"But, you can't help me if you don't have a plan." He stated matter-of-factly.

Gin wagged his finger. "Do I ever have a plan? That's Aizen-sama's job!"

"So we should go to him?"

"Nah. He's too busy. Besides, this is _my_ problem!"

"Aren't I the one in 'love' as you and Aizen-sama call it?" Ulquiorra asked, confused.

Gin clamped a hand on his shoulder and spun him around three times before taking off his sash and tying it around Ulquiorra's eyes.

"...Gin?"

"Shush. I'm takin' ya to my personal library."

"Is it really necessary to cover my eyes? I can still sense where you're leading me."

"Have ya no sense of drama, Ulquiorra?"

"....Drama?"

Gin slapped his forehead.

"Just walk, Ulquiorra."

Ulquoirra figured he might as well do what Gin said, because even if he was frank with him now, he could still triple-whip his ass into a can.

"Ta-Da!" Gin slipped his sash off of Ulquiorra's head. It got stuck on the horn and a sound of ripping fabric was heard; Gin was left with shreds of his sash in his hands.

"My....sash!" He sniffed.

Meanwhile, Ulquiorra was too busy looking around his awe.

"Where did _this_ come from?"

"I built it a few years ago..." Gin explained. Ulquiorra shook his head. "No, _that!"_

Gin's eyes turned red. "Wonderwice...." He growled, pinching his nose at the same time.

Ulquiorra turned away, trying not to inhale. Gin had led Ulquiorra straight into a pile of poo.

It squished as he walked, trying to ignore the smell. After a while, "Gin."

"Huh?"

"What is all this?"

Gin slung a hand over his shoulder. "This, Ulqui, is the most extensive library in all of Hueco Mondo and Soul Society. Ask how."

"How?"

"It's all love stories!"

Ulquiorra groaned. "No."

"Yes! The only way you'll learn how to woo Grimmjow is to read how others have done it!"

"....woo?"

"Yes, woo. Now, choose your pick for today, you can come back tomorrow. In a week, you'll have Grimmjow begging at your feet!"

Before Ulquiorra's mind could show him imagination clips of Grimmjow on the floor infront of him, saying, 'I have nothing to offer you better than my body', Gin slapped him on the back and brought him back to earth.

"So...whddya say?"

He sniffed. Considered his options. Weighted the pros and cons. Looked at the problem from every aspect.

Then....

".....Woo?"

000

Grimmjow sighed, and muttered to himself incoherently.

Illforte was supposed to be out tonight. Like he didn't know what Szayel did those 'brother bonding times' for.

He kicked the wall, and it crashed down on his foot. He quickly slipped his foot out and proceeded to kick another wall. By the time he had reached his room, three entire corridors had been demoislished by 'Grimmjow's-foot-of-doom'.

Or rather, 'Grimmjow's-lovesick-for-Illforte-foot-of-doom'.

Wait a mintue!

He wasn't in love with Illforte!

He refused to beleive it! He could make it go away! _Grimmjow Jaggerjack _fell in love. Yeah, right.

Like that was ever going to happen. Wussies had crushes, Szayel had crushes, Strawberries and that woman Ulquiorra was looking after had crushes.

Not him.

Nope.

Not at all.

They couldn't prove it! Not at—"Grimmjow-sama." A smooth, silky voice said.

He spun around, already knowing who it was. "Whaddya want?" He asked gruffly.

"I wished to inform you that I am leaving for Octava's quarters now."

Nooooo! Don't go! Grimmjow had to double-slap his ego for wailing like a girl—or worse, like..._a girly girl!_

You see, not all girls wailed like that—Halibeil had his respect—but there were others, like....say, Luppi or something, who did.

BTW, was Luppi even a girl?

Illforte snapped his fingers infront of Grimmjow's eyes. Grimmjow balked and almost back-pedaled.

The blonde man let out a smile and nodded once before walking past him, leaving the scent of frozen sunflowers.

Not that he had ever smelled sunflowers.

Or ever froze them and then identified their scent.

Not that he had ever gotten close enough to Illforte to smell him. Not that Ilforte had ever let him close enough to smell—Grimmjow clenched his fist. Come on, Grimm! No need to think like that! Be a man! I can do this!

Do what? His concious asked.

Err......smell Ilforte?

You're in looooove. Admit it!

Am not!

Yes you aaaaare.

Stop singing, jackass.

Whaaaat? I caaaaaan't heaaaaar yooooou!

You're in my mind!

Lalalalalaaaa I caaaan't hear yoooou!

Shut up!

Grimmy's in loooooove!

ARGH! By this time Grimmjow had kicked another three walls down.

"Ya know, Grimmy, you should stop kicking walls down. The poor things hurt too, ya know."

This time he didn't bother turning around (He only wanted to see how Ilforte looked before!) and replied a gruff: "Go away, Gin."

"Aww! That's not how to reply ta someone who came this far away to greet ya!"

"Your room is five minutes away."

"I crawled."

Grimmjow sweat-dropped for a mintue, and decided never, ever, ever in his like to try and figure Gin out.

Gin flash-stepped in front of the teal-haired Espada. "Hmm...." He said, analyzing Grimmjow carefully through his almost-shut eyes.

"Have your eye on someone?"

Grimmjow choked. Blushing furiously, "N-no!"

Gin wagged his finger. "Ya can't hide it from me!"

"There's nothing to hide, bastard!"

"I have parents." Gin pouted. "Somewhere." He added as an after-thought.

"Fine, jackass!"

Gin waved off the insult with his hand.

"Ya look like you've fallen fer someone. Who is it?"

Grimmjow crossed his arms and huffed grumplily: "I don't have to tell you. And I have NOT fallen for anyone!"

"Really?" Gin scratched his chin thoughtfully. "In that case, Tousen is in luck."

If Grimmjow was drinking something, he would have spit it out with a 'PTOOOOO' sound, with effects not unlike a hydraulic pump. (Un)fortunately, he wasn't, and he merely choked on his own spit. "KACHA!"

"Kacha?" Gin asked, cocking his head to the side.

"I'm.....choking....idiot..." Grimmjow wheezed, doubled up.

When he had finally regained his breath—Gin still debating whether he should go ahead and give the guy mouth-to-mouth, or take him to Ulquiorra—he panted, "Lemme attim!"

Gin grinned. "That's tha spirt! Tousen certainly needs someone to charm an' spice up his life!"

Grimmjow growled. "I am going to kill him."

"Knock him dead!" Gin pumped his fist in the air.

"Murder him!"

"Slaughter his desire!"

"Slaughter him!" Grimmjow repeated.

"Make him fall for you!"

"Make him fall!"

"_Love_ him so much he hates you!"

"Hate him so much he—wait, what?"

000

Ulquoirra closed the last page of the book, still blinking incredelously.

The enitre thing had just passed over his head.

_Vampires?_

_Humans?_

_Say what?_

He plopped down the book on the sofa and straighted up, deciding to read the next one tomorrow. He didn't think he could handle any more of the 'lets-stare-at-each-other-endlessly' fests in almost all of the books that Gin had thrown at him from the three storey ladder.

Grimmjow, I hate you.

Well, not really. Figuratively. Because he was making Ulquiorra read 'Twilight'.

And Ulquiorra was a Harry Potter fan.

Becasue, if he hated Grimmjow, he wouldn't be tempted to grab the Espada by the front of the jacket he wore next time they met and smash his li---his face in. He completed firmly, trying not to think of what he was actually thinking.

_Trying not to think of what he was thinking._

That sounded so screwed. Ulquiorra sighed and put his head in his heads, lying on his stomach.

Well, according to Gin and the book he just read, he needed to....be a vampire? He didn't think so.

How about trying to attract Grimmjow as to how hot Ulquiorra could look when he felt like it?

Maybe he should start conditioning his hair?

He twirled a little strand around his finger.

Wearing lip-gloss?

He would have to go to the living-world and get some.

Get sexier pajamas and wander down to breakfast in them?

No. He told himself firmly. He was _not_ going to go that far.

With what? His concious asked. Your pajamas, or Grimmjow?

He blushed, thinking of both things in one wonderful, wonderful imaginary event.

He sighed. Now if only that weren't so imaginary....

Deciding to let himself indulge for once (in his thoughts, not in a certain Espada!) his train of thought led him:

_Hm.....black bedsheets. Silk. _He nodded once to himself, chewing on a chew-toy Aizen has gotten for all of the Espada to relieve thier anger.

_And he has to grow his hair out._

There was no doubt that Grimmjow, if he was looking heavenly now—or rather, devilish; would look beyond compare with his hair long and down.

_Mmmm....long teal hair...his black pajama—screw pajamas._ He thought, deciding to go with the native outfit.

He had to triple-slap his ego a minute later to get himself out of his deep indulging thoughts.

He needed a distraction. A really, really big distraction.

How about he actually worked towards his goal instead of lying here and sighing melodramitically?

This struck him as a rational idea, and he leapt up, discarding 'Twilight' by the side-table.

I have to impress him.....he thought, pacing up and down in his room.

Aside from his personal appearence, how was he going to do that?  
He needed something big...big enough to impress Grimmjow for the rest of his life....

And NO, the dirty answer did not count.

About he just.....

Just what?

GAH! I can't figure it out! Ulquiorra clutched his head as if in pain.

"Alright, Ulquiorra. Think about this logically. Clearly." He breathed in deep and slow.

How about I throw him a party?

Grimmjow likes parites.

He'd probably get drunk......

An eqaution formed in his horned head. No, not _horny, _HORNED.

Not that there was much difference by this point in time anyways....

Anyways, the equation was: drunk-Grimmjow + supposedly-smashed-out-of-mind-Ulquiorra = UlquiGrimm.

As a couple. He smirked.

The smirk vanished after less than three seconds. But if all the other Espada were there, they would all get drunk, and there was more of a chance that they're precious make-out time would be ruined.

Hmm......problem.

BIG problem--how about a private party?

His logic argued: He'd never come to a private party.

Cleverness shot back: We don't have to tell him that no one else is coming.

Logic: Let's see, if there are scented candles, a silk-covered bed and only Ulquiorra (half)naked in the room, he'd figure it out pretty quickly.

Cleverness: We could knock him out and drug him.

Logic: That'd be rape.

Ulquiorra quietened down his different personas and thought about the current problem for a bit. IN the end, he sided with his logic. Ok, so the private party was out.

What next?

Get Gin to make them go on a trip to the human world together?

Not bad. Not bad at all.

He smirked at his own intellect, and determined to ask Gin later.

0000

The next morning, Grimmjow was once again wearing those ultra-kawaii pajamas, and was sitting by him for a change. His heart leapt.

Gin was smiling more than usual, and Tousen was getting glared daggers at by a certain teal haired Espada.

Ulquiorra sat in between Grimmjow and Tousen; Grimmjow let out a barely audible sigh of relief.

Why can't I hear him sighing like that normally?

Simple reason, Ulquiorra: You're not his boyfriend yet.

He nodded, accepting his own logic.

Hope shone through: Yet. _Yet. YET._

He smiled, and suceeded in freaking out Yammy, who was sitting in front of him. A cold sweat broke out over Yammy's massive body and he wondered if he was seeing things.

Again.

Ulquiorra smiled wider when Grimmjow's elbow un-intentionally brushed against his arm, and Yammy was sure that he was seeing things. Shakily excusing himself, he left the table for his room.

Tousen shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Grimmjow was glaring at him with the intensity of three-thousand fake-suns.

Not good.

And even he couldn't _see_ Grimmjow imagining his body in tiny tiny bits, he could _feel _it. And it was freaky.

Ulquiorra finished putting the last of pizza in his mouth (Aizen-sama was slightly....crazy....for having pizza for breakfast, but it wasn't like he was here to complain) and put his elbow on the table, leaning his head on his hand.

He stared intently at Grimmjow's every last strand in front of his face, how he chomped the pizza and swallowed without waiting to chew properly.

So......CUTE!

He was being overwhelmed by the cuteness.

It was even cuter that Grimmjow was glaring at Tousen for some reason.....

He gasped.

Grimmjow was staring at Tousen.

He gasped again.

The person he loved was staring at someone else.

O.M.G.

Err.....O.M.A

He hoped Aizen-sama would be satisfied with that, before continuing panicking.

What if......?

Grimmjow! And Tousen!

TOUSEN OF ALL PEOPLE!

TOUSEN!

Tousen of all Aizen-damned people!

Why?!

Whhhhhy?!

He wailed inwardly.

Ok, get ahold of yourslef, Ukelala.

Since when did you call yourself 'Ukelala'?

Err....a _long loooong_ time ago.

Or rather since you heard Grimmjow mutter that after he talked to you once.

Shut up! Now, as I was sayin—thinking, I have to get ahold of myself. There is no way Grimmjow would choose moralisitc Tousen over....loyal-god-me.

Ok, so that _wasn't _such a nice compariosn.

Grimmjow would probably like someone who was rebellious, and loved to break rules. In short, _nothing_ like him.

He felt like crying. But this thought came in a package: If he wasn't going to like him, he wouldn't like Tousen either.

He didn't know whether he should be gleeful or cry. Could he do both?

He doubted it. No matter how talented he was, he didn't think he could cry and laugh at the same time. Especially since up till two weeks ago he thought he was devoid of all emotion.

Then Grimmjow had come sailing with his lack-of-clothes and utter sexiness and turned him into a sighing, lovesick duck.

Complete with the little stubby tail.

Essentially, he should hate Grimmjow. Hate him so much it hurt. Want to _hurt_ him. _Hurt _him so much it _hurt._

Push him up against the wall and—No, NOT kiss him senseless—cero his stupid.....hot.....smexy....ass through Las Noches.

He sqeezed his eyes shut. He needed to get a hold of himself.

Or let someone else—like Grimmjow—get a hold of him.....GAH!

PAY ATTENTION FOR ONCE UKELALA!

Right. Pay attention. Pay attention. Pay attention....to what?

Oh yeah! He was going to signal Gin and ask why Grimmjow was staring at Tousen.

With any luck, the guy was still single. It wasn't like it mattered anyways, because Ulquiorra would most probably cero who ever dared to lay their filthy hands on Grimmjow, but still. Pretending to be nice and all.

Ulquiorra threw his fork at Gin.

Aizen looked up, along with the rest of the Espada.

Surprisingly, astonishingly, amazingly, Ulquiorra and Gin were oblivious to how obvious thier 'secret signal talk' was.

Gin jerked his head up and Ulquiorra pointed, quite obviously, at Grimmjow.

'Yeah, what about him?' Gin mouthed.

Ulquiorra made arrow-shooting movements with his fingers, and shot the arrows from Grimmjow to Tousen's face.

Gin looked thoughtful, and nodded. He shrugged, and then made an utterly love-sick-puppy-dog-look.

Ulquiorra gasped inaudibly.

By this time most of the Espada were sniggering to themseles behind thier pizza, except for Grimmjow, who couldn't be bothered to look up, and Tousen, who couldn't see what was going on.

Ulquiorra shook his head rather forcefully, making Aizen thankful that Ulquiorra's mask was attatched firmly to his head, because it'd _really_ hurt who ever it flew and hit.

Probably crack their head open.

And then Szayel would have to do surgery on them...or he'd have to get Orihime.....Aizen snapped back to attention to the present, where it seemed Gin was making gunpoint motions with his fingers, pointing them at Tousen.

Ulquiorra was nodding in dark agreement.

Gin smirked, and pointed at Grimmjow, then at Ulquiorra. Ulquiorra raised his eyebrow, 'I kill Tousen, then me and Grimmjow....what?' he mouthed.

With his signature Gin-Grin in place, the silver haired man winked at Ulquiorra 'Do this!', grabbed Aizen from the front of the robes and began kissing him passionately.

The Lord of Hueco Mondo made a strange 'eeep' sound before his lips were robbed of breath (and their personal space), and Ulquoirra at once turned a very deep shade of red; standing up hastily with his hand over his face.

He turned and fled from the room, levaing most of the Espada decidedly amused, Aizen still kissing Gin (now kissing back), Tousen with bad vibes giving him the jitters, and Grimmjow too absorbed in his pizza to notice any of it.

Just how deep was that pizza, anyways?

000


	2. The Master Plan to Ulqui Laid snicker

CHAPTER TWO:

Ulquiorra rushed back to his room, and slammed the door shut as hard as he could without breaking it. To hell—it cracked the wall and the front of his room fell in.

He sniffed pitifully.

What was he supposed to do now?

No, not about Grimmjow (he could never do what Gin had just suggested over breakfast); about his room!

Considering that half of it was on the floor now, and the blue sky of Hueco Mondo could be visible through the _gaping_ hole in the roof, he couldn't sleep here.

What if it rained?

Ok, it didn't rain in Hueco Mondo.

But...what if a bird flew over and excreted on him?

The bird would be promptly cero-ed out of it's miserable existence, but his pride would never be the same.

It was for that reason, (fear of non-existent birds pooing on him) that he sat down on the sofa to think for a solution.

He needed somewhere to sleep.

He needed somewhere to live for the next few days...

Hmm...

Ulquiorra double-slapped his ego. Grimmjow's room was not an option.

Although Grimmjow surely wouldn't turn away a fellow comrade in need of a room...Grimm was always a generous person.

He would welcome the unfortunate Espada whose room fell in into his own room and bed, correct?

NO. He thought firmly. He wouldn't, so stop thinking about it and ask Gin for a solution—hell, you don't even need to ask Gin! There are so many extra rooms everywhere, just go sleep anywhere!

Unfortunately, all the other rooms were under Yammy's control. He'd have to go and ask...

He sighed. Why did things have to be so difficult?

He rolled off the side of the bed, and stood up. On second thought...what was the worse that could happen?

Well, a bird could poo on his hair...

Someone could see him in his night-clothes...

It might be cold...

To the first one, he didn't really care. The bird was going to die. Again.

The second one...he couldn't care less. Except for if it was Grimmjow.

He could take a quilt to fend off the cold to fix the third problem.

He nodded, satisfied. He was going to sleep in his own room tonight...

...despite the birds.

Because he was too lazy and sleepy (Ulquiorra! When did you ever start thinking that you're were lazy and sleepy? Shame on you!) to go and find Yammy.

He flopped down on the bed and crawled under the blanket after changing into his lime-green and black cotton pajamas. It occurred to him that it had only been two hours since he had woken up (he just came back from breakfast!) but apparently he was tired already.

He yawned under the blanket and closed his eyes.

000

Aizen dismissed breakfast and turned to Gin, finger tapping on the chair.

"Gin."

"Uh-huh?" Gin looked up from sketching pictures of Aizen's teacup.

"What was that at breakfast?" The Lord of Hueco Mondo asked, his mouth turned into a disapproving frown.

"Oh, _that!_ Nothin' much."

"It was a riot."

"_Ulquiorra _is in love. Whaddya expect?"

Aizen thought it over. "Point taken." If Ulquiorra was in love, the world was going to come to an end. And before he could take over it.

Damn.

000

Grimmjow almost never came down in these corridors. Scratch that, he _never_ came down in these corridors. Mostly because... they belonged to someone he didn't need to see more of.

Namely, Ichimaru Gin, the fox-faced bastard.

The reason he was down here right now, was for a special reason. Szayel's room was next to his (the Eighth and the Sixth), but his lab was waaaay down the other end of the freakin' Las Noches hallway. Probably to protect them from an explosion, or something, Grimmjow snorted.

He needed something from Szayel—rather, he needed _someone_. Ilforte hadn't returned for two days, and even though he'd been trying to deny it, he wanted to see him.

Speak of the devil, really. The silver haired devil. "Hiya, Grimmy!" He stifled a groan.

"Whatddya want?"

"Aizen-sama has orders for ya." Gin replied, his grin firmly in place. If Grimmjow didn't know better, he would say that Gin was enjoying himself thoroughly right now. Except...there was no one to torture, or humiliate, so he couldn't exactly see _why_ he would be having fun.

"What does he say?" Grimmjow asked, running a hand through his hair. It just figured that Aizen would have to choose the most inopportune moment to call him.

"Ya have to go ta the livin' world righ' now." If possible, Gin's smirk grew in size.

"Get noodles again? Can't Stark do that? Get that lazy ass off of his bed for once."

"Nope! Not noodles this time."

"Candles for your stupid romantic dinner?"

"Gr—"

"More Harry Potty books for Ulquiorra?"

"Actu—"

"Halibeil's sanitary things again?" Grimmjow rubbed his forehead. All the sales women looked at him funny when he told them he was looking for 'Always Extra Light'.

...And he no idea why. But he figured it wasn't good.

"Will ya, or will ya not let me talk?"

"Talk, then." Grimmjow crossed his arms.

"You and Ulqui-chan have to go kill a Orange/Strawberry."

"You mean Ichigo? I thought we had a truce with the Death-people?" Grimmjow raised his eyebrow. If there was nothing he'd like to do better than go meet up with the guy who he'd...ok, the point was, he didn't want to meet him, even to kill him.

Wait a minute..._especially_ not to kill him. He remembered last time—okay, wait. He didn't remember last time...or, atleast, didn't want to.

It had been something like,

"_Hey Ichi. Aizen says I gotta kill you." As he knocked on the window of the kid's room._

_Ichigo laughed darkly. "Since when?"_

"_Well, it's been a while, but now he's mad since the DeathPeople want a truce."_

"_Will you stop calling us_ Death People?"

"_What would you prefer me calling you, Ichi?"_

And after that, it was major-R-rated stuff that little girls aren't allowed to write about.

He rubbed his head. He didn't want to...—insert sniff here—meet his old boyfreind!

"Err...can I _not_ go?"

"Nope!"

"Can I not _not_ go?"

"Yes!"

"Can I not_not_not_not_ go?"

"You have ta' go!"

"Awwww, man!"

Gin laughed, tinkling. "I'm too smart fer tha', Grimmy. Now go get ready."

"And if I don't?" Grimmjow growled. Last time Ichigo had bitch-slapped him and booted his ass out of the house.

In short, something he did NOT want to repeat.

Especially in front of...who was he going with again?

Gin answered his unasked question, "You'll be going with Ulquiorra."

"What? NO."

"Gri—"

"NO."

"Grimm—"

"N-O."

"Ya can get a kitten when you're there."

"N-What? Really?" Grimmjow's face lit up and he blushed slightly in thought of a tiny little kitty who would cuddle with him on cold nights and ride in his hollow hole.

He'd been dreaming about one for weeks, he'd even written it on his Birthday List.

Gin stared at the teal-haired Espada, blushing slightly, and scowling to try and hide his shining eyes, and realized why Ulquiorra was so enamored with everything Grimmjow did.

Grimmjow was intense. Ulquiorra needed color. Needed life, needed vigor, needed Grimmjow.

"Can I leave? Like, now?" Grimmjow asked, unable to stay a moment longer. A little kitty was waiting for him in one the pet shops he used to spend so much time in. He has considered bringing one secretly to Hueco Mondo, but realized that it would die without the spirit changers he needed to bring it to hollow world.

"'Arre 'arre. Go ahead." Grimmjow sped off, practically bouncing with happiness. He was in such high spirits that he didn't notice Ilforte right in front of him, obviously coming back from Szayel's lab. He plowed straight into the blonde man, ending up with the slighter guy on the floor underneath him. The oh-so-happy-smile slid from his face and was replaced by a deep coloration.

So it proved it. Ilforte _did_ smell lik frozen sunflowers, just like he'd imagined.

Ilforte groaned, his breath landing on Grimmjow's cheek. "Ugh...Grimmjow..sama?"

Ohsodeliciousbreath...

Grimmjow, with great difficulty, managed to stammer, "Er..sorry..." He got up, and breathed again, "Sorry, Ilforte."

"Nothing broken." Ilforte smiled serenely, and got himself up. He _hoped_ nothing was broken—damn, Grimmjow was heavy.

Running his fingers through his hair to smooth it, he looked at Grimmjow's shining visage. "Did you receive good news, Grimmjow-sama?"

The teal-haired Espada snapped out of his reverie, and his eye shone again. "Hell yeah! I'm going to the living world with..."

His eyes dulled. "With...Ulquiorra." He growled. His dream wasn't looking so inviting any more. He could just imagine Ulquiorra's icy presence staring at him with those dead eyes while he was around kitties of all different kinds.

Ugh. Ulquiorra would probably smirk and taunt him, or just bore an imaginary hole into his poor kitty.

Pondering over the dilemma, walking away from where he met Ilforte, he was struck with a brilliant idea.

He whipped around so fast that if he wasn't a cat and naturally graceful, he would have never stayed on his feet. "Ilforte!" He hollered behind the swishing long hair and the coat tails.

"Could you come with me in the living world for a bit?"

000

Yammy was passing by Ulquiorra's room this morning, and saw half of it demolished. After a few stupid grunts and gasps, he wondered why Ulquiorra was still sleeping in the broken room.

Now, he was just coming back from getting a temporary room for Ulquiorra sorted out and paused around the corner when he saw Gin whistling cheerfully. A line of sweat broke out over his forehead; he didn't like Gin. He always made fun of him and said stuff that he only got ten minutes later. By that time, he was long gone, leaving Yammy bristling in anger.

This time, he decided to avoid the silver haired man.

From where he was, he could hear everything that was being said.

000

Gin burst into his room (or what was left of it), yelling something about the end of the world. Naturally, Ulquiorra didn't wake up. He could take on the end of the world, no problem.

The silver haired demon stood over the foot of the bed, wondering how to get the Espada awake without killing him, or himself. "Ulqui! Wake up! We're at war with tha Shinigami!" _Yammy gasped._

No response.

"Wake up! Szayel wants ta make ya breakfast!" _Raised eyebrow._

No response.

"Noitra's bein' nice!" _Double gasp._

No response.

"Yammy can think!"_ "PTOO—WHAT? Of course I can-That bastard!"_

No response.

"Stark is hyper!" _Well, he was bound to wake up sooner or later..._

No response.

"Halibeil's a MAN!" _Choke and die._

No response.

"Tousen and Grimmjow are DATIN'!" Ulquiorra shot straight up, glared at Gin so fiercely that the silver haired man winced, and said,

"What. Did. You. Say."

Needless to say, the tone was deadly.

"Ahha, just messin' with ya. Now get up. You have ta go the livin' world."

"Who says?"

"I do, an' with Grimmjow." Ulquiorra's green eyes widened a fraction of an inch, and he blinked slowly a few times.

"Say that again."

"With Grimmy!" Gin clapped his hands together in glee.

"...And you arranged this?"

"Yep!"

"...And he agreed?" Ulquiorra felt hope bubbling.

"Well, I had ta give him a little incentive, but it'll do nicely."

"...When?"

"In tha past thousand years you've been asleep."

"Very amusing. Now really, when?"

"Righ' now!"

Ulquiorra looked away, biting his lip in effort to conceal the happiness he could feel bursting his insides. He wanted to do something right now, but couldn't make up the effort. Luckily, Gin helped him through.

Grinning widely, "Hug me, brotha!"

000

"...What should I wear...what to wear...what to wear...what to wear..." Grimmjow muttered, watching nervously as Ilforte waited patiently by the doorway. He was already dressed in a long shirt, one that almost covered up to his knees, but with slits up to his hips. He had on blue jeans over the straight-collared baby blue, ironed shirt.

This proved it. Grimmjow thought. Ilforte looked too hot to be legal in _everything._

He shot another glance at the slim figure in the doorway. Ilforte had left his hair down, but had tied them loosely at the back. As a result, there were bangs framing his face, and his hair looked pretty, but without flying everywhere and getting static.

He had once seen Ilforte coming in from a severe sand-storm. More freighting than the dirty and ripped clothes (or hot) was the static hair flying everywhere. He had tried to touch it and it shocked him enough to make him yelp.

Ilforte always tied his hair while going out since then.

Maybe, his conscious began nastily, if you concentrate on actually choosing your clothes, you would have them by now.

He snapped back to attention. By the time, Ilforte moved forwards and said, "Would you like my assistance?"

"Hmm? Oh, er, sure."

Ilforte's eyes narrowed in concentration (So...hot!), and he quickly picked out a simple sleeveless white shirt, a teal jacket not unlike the one he wore everyday, and blue jeans.

Grimmjow sighed—and here he was hoping that Ilforte would saying something like, 'I'm sure you look better without clothes, you sexy thing.'

In that delicious deep voice...GAH! He mentally slapped himself, and donned the clothes in another room.

Although he would have _loved_ to play strip-tease.

Damn, he cursed as they traveled towards the gate.

He cursed again when he saw another aspect of the trip he had completely forgotten about. Ulquiorra was waiting at the gate, looking as glum as ever, even though he had reasonably colorful clothes. Gin grinned next to him.

Ulquiorra was wearing beige trousers, a white collared shirt tucked in all neat (it made him growl to see how meticulously it was done) and a cream colored coat was hanging off of his hand. Grimmjow supposed he was trying to be casual, but with how stiff the guy was, it was no use.

Gin waved them off like an anxious mother, telling them not to be naughty (Ulquiorra couldn't believe Gin just said that), and telling them not to catch a cold. Strangely, he didn't acknowledge Ilforte at all, and for some reason, Ilforte suspected Gin didn't want him to go with them.

Unfortunately for Gin, though, Grimmjow had grabbed his hand while they were passing through the gate.

He pondered over this fact while they were walking in silence through the severing world. That, and the tiny smile Grimmjow gave him when he released his hand.

Shaking his head to rid himself of the confusing thoughts, he focused more on where they were heading.

"Are we to get out things from the store first, or attack the Shinigami?" Ilforte asked, voice soft and low as usual.

"Attack." Ulquiorra said.

"Store." Grimmjow disagreed.

"We'll get the things dirty or risk losing them if we go to the store first." Ulquiorra said, stepping down onto Earth in their gigais. The women of this world, he decided, looking at the street full of them ogling the three of them, were crazy.

"But we'll probably be all bloody and dirty, and then have to get back in the gigais if we fight first." Ulquiorra's eyes widened. It was his dream come true! Grimm was being smart! He wanted to hug him.

He offered a tight little smile, and agreed. Ilforte raised his eyebrow—when was the last time he saw Ulquiorra smile? Oh, right, NEVER.

He was mortified, terrified, horrified, petrified, aghast, appalled, shocked, and fucking scared.

Damn. Even he wasn't that good at hiding his emotions—he cringed away from Ulquiorra until Grimmjow caught him by the waist.

"Where're you going, Forte?" He asked, and Ilforte thought that his day could not possibly get any more confusing. Grimmjow was being...nice.

"Are you alright?" He asked the teal-haired man, trying to ignore the fucking scary glares that Ulquiorra was driving into his skull.

"Yeah, fine, babe." Grimm replied, but kept his hand around the blonde man's waist.

...Babe? Ulquiorra snarled mentally, vowing to kill Ilforte slowly when he got the chance. Or better yet, just tell Szayel not to heal him next time he wanted 'brother bonding' time.

"You're being..." Ilforte wondered if he wanted to tell Grimmjow that he was being nice. It would probably come out something like: _Hey Grimm, you're being nice, and that's just so fucked up 'cuz you're never nice, and you're being nice now and it's freaking me out so could you stop, and yo, wazzup?_

Okay, he _didn't_ want to tell him.

Grimmjow focused his fierce teal gaze on Ilforte, making the taller man blush the slightest. "Yes?"

"...Um...nothing." Ilforte tripped over his own words. What happened to all his elegance?

"Oh." Grimm sighed. Ilforte stared at him, wondering if he was expecting something. "Whatever it is...you can tell me if ya feel like it, 'k, babe?" He ran a worried hand through his teal hair and looked ahead.

His other hand was still wrapped around Ilforte's waist, forcing him to walk closer to Grimmjow that he was used to.

Not that any of it was bad feeling—except for the daggers at the back of his head, and the sound of Ulquiorra grinding his teeth loudly.

"Ulqui, ya know, grinding your teeth is sign that you have bugs in your ear." Grimmjow called back to the Cuatro, when the grinding became unbearable.

"Really?" Ilforte asked, and Grimmjow looked up at him and smiled. No matter how long he was, Ilforte still felt like he was hanging off of Grimmjow, despite being powerful enough to carry Grimmjow's body with one hand.

"Yeah, you didn't know that? Ich—Someone I knew used to do it, and he had to get his ears cleaned out."

"And you knew what kind of noises this _person_ made when they were asleep?" Ulquiorra asked, crushing his teeth with the power of a bulldozer. He hadn't missed the half-completed name.

Grimmjow coughed, and his face reddened the slightest. "Er...yeah. I knew him quite well."

Well, that wasn't a complete lie. It was true that Ichigo had dumped him because they barely understood each other and this led to an argument, but at least he knew the Strawberry well. Physically, of course.

"It was a him." Ulquiorra confirmed out loud, before marching off in the direction of the super mart angrily. How dare he! First Grimmjow ruined their date by bringing Ilforte along, then being so blatantly Public Displays of Affection-ish, and then talking about his OLD boyfriend, who they were supposed to kill today!

This day couldn't get any worse.

On afterthought, he really shouldn't have thought that. It just made the day get worse.

With the speed of Aizen when he was ordering pizza, rain clouds formed overhead and let their baggage drop.

Ulquiorra quickly ran to the building, being so much closer than the other two, and dried himself off like a dog inside.

Outside, a drop landed on Ilforte's nose. "Oh." He said. "It's raining." The blonde man looked so cute worried, Grimmjow couldn't help but smile.

"Nah, what's the worry? Loosen up a bit, Forte!" He exclaimed, and grabbed Ilforte's hand. He jumped in the puddle nearest to them. The water rose almost as high as Grimmjow's chin, and landed with a spectacular splash.

"Oh, Grimmjow-sama!" Ilforte laughed, looking at his wet, ruined clothes.

"Let's do that again." Grimmjow suggested, and hopped up and down where he stood until they both were dripping shoulder-down from the puddle water, and head-down from the fast-falling rain.

Ilforte couldn't contain his laughter—it was such a different side of Grimmjow than the one he normally saw. It was almost childish.

The drops in the atmosphere kept on falling, wetting them further, and the two of them had a good time laughing at everyone else trying to scramble out of the spring rain.

Ilforte was insisting that they would catch a cold, like Gin warned them not to, and kept on trying to escape from Grimmjow's grip, but half-heartedly. He was too busy laughing to make a real attempt.

"Oh, come on! A cold can't do nothin'!" Grimmjow grinned, and raised his face to the sky with his mouth open for the raindrops. Ilforte tried to take advantage of his inattentiveness and run to shelter, but he caught the squirming man around the waist with both hands and held him close, purely to make sure he didn't run away, he told himself.

But he couldn't deny how good it felt to have Ilforte leaning against his chest like that, with both of his hands around Ilforte's lean waist.

He might even have blushed.

000

Ulquiorra hovered by the isle when a fangirl jumped on him. Not that she told him that she was a fangirl—he just guessed the girls with the weird obsession with glomping unsuspecting things were fangirls.

So, yeah. She glomped him from the back, and he plucked her off and held her at an arm's length, as if she smelled. Of shit, and not of flowery cologne.

Which was just as bad, truth to be told.

"OMG, mister! Are you here to buy lip-gloss?" He said frantically, and his emerald eyes focused on the store uniform. Damn. She was the sales-girl, and he needed her help.

Which meant that he had to talk to her.

Damn.

"Trash." He spoke, and she wriggled in joy of being spoken to.

"I need cosmetics products from this isle." He stated, and put her down. Her eyes twinkled. "Of course, mister! What do you need? I can get you anything you need! I'm at your service! Please buy something! I'm begging you! The stuff here is really good! It's not too expensive either! Are you buying with cash or credit card? Cash right? Cash would be great! Cash is awesome! Cash, right? Ca—"

Ulquiorra's eyebrow twitched. Seriously, this had to be Most Annoying Creature On the Face of Earth Award Winner.

He ignored her blabbing in the backround and turned to the lip-gloss section. Hm...Maybelline? He already wore black and green (occasionally) eye-liner from this company, so he figured the lip-gloss would be good...

He picked out a clear one, still trying hard to concentrate on his selection. Fangirl's screams ("OMG, mister! I can get you more green ones! You like green, right? You have green eyes! So you must like green! Right? YOU DO LIKE GREEN, RIGHT?") weren't helping.

"Mister!" She yelled in his ear, and he resisted the urge to throw her out the window or something equally satisfying. "I can make you over and see how you like it! You would be able to choose perfectly! That would be great, right! Awesome, right! Yeah! Can I do that? Can I? Can I? I can, can't I? Can I please? OMG, I can! Can I?"

He felt a headache coming on. Pinching the bridge of his fine nose, he put a had to her face to stop her. "Yes." He said, trying not to let on the exasperation.

"Really? OMG! I'd be so happy to! I would-"

"But you have to shut up." He stated, and she nodded, eyes still twinkling inanely.

Ulquiorra sat down on a stool she brought him and let out a long sigh. He had a bad feeling about this…

He closed his eyes and let her make a complete mess of his face.

"Okiey-Dokey, mister, all done!" He opened his eyes, feeling them a little sticky from the top. She brought him a mirror, and he had to suppress a gasp. Was that him?

He was…he was…

"Like it?" She grinned, and watched as Ulquiorra nodded dumbly. It looked like they employed the air-headed fan girl for a reason.

His mascara was done darker in black, with the slightest edge of emerald green at the side. It really brought out his eyes, he thought. On his lips, she had put simple clear lip-gloss, with a tinge of pink in it. His nails, always painted black in emo-fashion, were now done over with clear shiny stuff, manicured and filed from the tips.

Wow. He looked…great.

"What did you use?" He asked her, and she showed him a basket full of cosmetics. There were a few creams in there, and he supposed she used that to tone out his skin from the unnaturally pale-holy crap, was there _rouge _on his cheeks?

"Alright. I'll take it all." He said, and reached down into his pockets for Aizen's infinite credit card, before realizing that Grimmjow had it.

"Wait here. I'll fetch the money." He told Fangirl, who was rather beginning to grow on him. After all, she _did_ make him real gorgeous.

Grimmjow couldn't be far behind, he thought, walking towards the cold, rainy breeze from the open doors of the super mart.

He strolled straight into the rain- he didn't want to, it'd get his hair in tangles- and looked around for the his handsome crush and the date-ruiner.

000

Grimmjow swung Ilforte around, laughing. "Oh no ya don't! You're getting wet, goddamnit!"

"We're already wet!" Ilforte chuckled back, trying, rather mockingly, to squeeze out of Grimm's tight grip.

"You splashed the last splash entirely at me! Now I'm getting' you back!" Grimm growled, but the happy twinkle in his eye never faded.

Ilforte managed to twist his way out of Grimmjow's arms, and began to run, still laughing. The long shawl he had over his shoulders was around his waist now, and it dragged in the puddles, getting wet. It came underfoot- Ilforte could hardly tell he had tripped until he was falling face-first towards the ground at an alarming rate. He shut his eyes to prepare for the impact, but it never came. Strong, tanned sinewy arms grasped him around his waist, and spun him around so that he was facing Grimmjow.

The breath suddenly left his lungs: Grimmjow's face was just an inch from his own.

"You should watch where you're running." Those alluring lips said, in a low, gruff, yet caring tone.

"But you caught me." He mumbled back, blushing beautifully across his cheeks.

"I always will." Grimmjow replied, and closed his charismatic eyes. He leaned in to gently touch Ilforte's lips with his own.

I've died and gone to heaven. But then again…I'm already dead. Oh well. I still feel heaven-ish.

Grimmjow thought, moving his lips ever so slightly and softly against Ilforte's, until he felt the slightest, shyest response.

He pulled away, and stared at Ilforte's flushed face with obvious infatuation. "Again?" He suggested. Ilforte put his hands around Grimmjow's head, and the teal-haired man kissed him again, sweet and slow.

Although the two of them had their eyes closed, Ilforte suddenly sensed something wrong. He pulled away frantically, looking around, and finally sticking his horrified gaze to one spot.

"What's wrong, babe?" Grimmjow asked softly, nuzzling his face against Ilforte's pale, beautiful cheek.

When he got no answer, he followed Ilforte's gaze and stared straight into the face of the Cuatro Espada.

Fuck.

000

A/N: Thank you all so much for the feedback last chapter. I hope you like this one just as much, if not better.

I don't own Maybelline. *BIGGEST SOB STORY OF THE YEAR* Or Bleach.

Review please!


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